


Explosive Aftermath

by Kotik



Series: Adult Season Three [9]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kotik/pseuds/Kotik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Soval finds out what happened to Malcolm, the High Command becomes desperate...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Explosive Aftermath

 

Jon walked into Maxwell’s office hoping to find an answer to the question of why he had received a note saying that he was expected to report to the Admiral before collecting two of his officers from the brig at Starfleet Headquarters.

“Have a seat, Jon,” the Admiral said after the captain had reported in officially. Jon looked at his long-time friend expectantly. “I guess you have a few question?”

“You bet,” he replied, trying not getting too angry. “I don’t know when that changed, but normally it was customary to state the reason why someone was taken into custody. Have I missed a memo somewhere?”

“You were not told, because the reason has a T-1 classification,” Maxwell said calmly.

He took the PADD from the Admiral and entered his full security clearance code. His eyes got wider and wider with every line he read. According to this report three of his officers had stormed the Vulcan embassy in full combat gear and killed no less than seventeen Vulcans, some rather ferociously in fact. Considering that he was only to collect two officers, it left a rather obvious question to ask.

“Who didn’t make it?”

“They are all alive, but more on that later,” Forest said. “The important bit is, the Vulcans want to sweep the whole thing under the rug and won’t press any charges. Neither will we, although we will take disciplinary action for violating away mission protocol. They’ll most likely end up with a reprimand.”

“Now that’s very lenient of Starfleet and that tells me there’s more to it,” Jon said letting a good dose of sarcasm seep into his voice.

“Your coms officer had been abducted by the V’Shar. As part of the agreement with the Vulcans we won’t ask why. The diplomatic fallout would be too big if word got round that they abducted a human. We have enough problems with xenophobic groups as it is.”

John gasped. Hoshi of all people had been abducted? It had been barely four months since she had been taken hostage by the Reptilians.

“I guess that explains why she is reported to be in Starfleet Medical?” he asked and the Admiral nodded.

“I’ve heard she’s gotten out of it better than expected. I’ve already approved that you can visit her.”

“That leaves the question why it became so violent. I’ve known them for years. T’Pol is barely able to shoot someone even if her life is threatened and Trip is not exactly the violent type. Reed is not someone I’d cross needlessly, but he’s not a cold-blooded killer. Yet I’m supposed to believe that all three of them went in there and staged a massacre?”

Jon wanted to know what _really_ happened. He refused to believe that he was being told everything. He refused to believe that his officers had _done_ , what he was being told.

“Ambassador Soval has agreed to talk to you. Reed is currently in medical care with the Vulcans. He’s the one who killed all those people. Tucker and T’Pol never fired a single shot. To me it sounds like a psychosis frankly, but Soval believes that he knows what happened and that Reed didn’t act entirely on his own will if his theory proves true.”

“Looks like I’ll get some mileage today,” Jon snorted, still confused, but also worried about Malcolm and Hoshi.

=/\=

“You should have had me shot,” Malcolm said.

“On the contrary,” the Vulcan said. “First of all you should know that I am well aware of your service with Earth’s secretive Section 31.”

As expected the human reacted with visible surprise, even shock. The V’Shar had informed him about the organization almost a decade ago. What he had not known was that this information had come from within the Embassy. Just like the monastery at P’Jem, his embassy had been misused to spy on another species in violation of all diplomatic accords. He found it increasingly hard to accept recent decisions by the High Command.

The human was sitting before him in his office and he looked very different from the aggressive warrior, who had stormed the Embassy less than forty-eight hours ago.

“Have you, in your time with this organization, ever encountered a Vulcan named Paror?” he asked and to his surprise the human looked back at him in disgust and snorted.

“Oh, you bet,” he said. “The ‘faith healer’. We all met him and funnily we all got some souvenir out of it. He would grab you in the face like that, mutter something in Vulcan and then the lights went out. Later I was told I had suffered from hypoglycemia. Some others had heat-stroke or whatever. Word was that the same happened as a farewell if someone left the section.”

The demonstration of the human left no doubt that he had indeed been subjected to an involuntary mind-meld.

“Paror was executed three years ago for treason, when it was found that he had worked for the humans. What you have experienced is called a mind-meld. It is my belief that you have been conditioned for use as a fearless warrior and assassin.”

“You mean I was brain-washed?” the human asked back and Soval could easily see what the impact on the young man was when he realized that he had been violated. “We’d always thought this was some kind of probing if we were up to the job.”

“What you called ‘farewell’ was a second mind-meld to undo the conditioning. However after losing Paror’s services, your organization was no longer able to reverse the effects of the conditioning. And since mind-melds are considered deviant behavior by the current High Command, they did of course have problems finding a suitable replacement.”

“There goes the chance of finding someone then,” the human said and Soval heard the frustration and resignation in the man’s voice.

“I can perform the meld,” he replied calmly and waited for the human’s reaction. Lieutenant Reed was a rare example of a human, who had a strong control over his emotions, but he couldn’t hide the surprise at hearing this offer.

“I do wonder, Ambassador. I have heard many names that you were called, mostly of the unflattering variety, but deviant was not among them. In fact I’m beginning to think you are not quite the man we used to believe you are.”

“My public image is a necessary misrepresentation of my true nature,” Soval admitted. “I have grown quite fond of humanity, but were I to show or admit this I would lose my post immediately to be succeeded by my deputy Tos. I believe that would be detrimental to Human-Vulcan relations.”

“When do you want to do this meld?” the human asked and Soval noticed that he had not given much of a response to his admission, nor deemed it worthy of a verbal response.

“I shall perform the meld in three hours. I need time to prepare for the procedure.”

He observed the human, who acknowledged his instructions and stood patiently to wait for the two security officers, who had come in on his signal and shackled the Lieutenant before leaving to escort him back to the medical ward.

=/\=

John sat down next to the biobed. Hoshi’s eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. Was she trying to shut the world out the way she did after her rescue from the Reptilian ship?

“How are you Hoshi?” he asked softly. She slowly opened her eyes, but he could see mainly exhaustion and sadness in the dark orbs that looked back at him.

“I'm better. I've got a bit of experience with being abducted lately, wouldn't you say?”

Her voice was flat, utter resignation colored her speech.

“You know my past, Captain. I just did what I used to do back then when it comes to influencing men. I showed them my tits and my pussy. It worked.”

He wasn't really buying this 'simple' explanation, but he wasn't much of a counselor. Yet, the offer should be made, considering he was one of the few people, who knew of her past that was mainly driven by a lack of self-esteem.

“If you need someone to talk, my door's always open,” he said, gently taking her hand. She acknowledged the gesture with a nod and the tiniest of smiles, but it was not genuine. She might say she was better now, but that just meant she had come from pretty low down.

“Do you know what will happen to them?”

That was at least something he could help with.

“I'll collect Trip and T'Pol from the brig. There won't be any charges. Probably just a reprimand for a formality. Do you want me to bring them here when I've gotten them out?”

“You should allow them to run to the next motel or bring them to the ship,” Hoshi said. “T'Pol will have other problems and only Trip can help with those.”

He didn't ask any further. Apparently the after-effects of the virus were still present, even if they weren't known to him in detail. And it was not his business anyway.

“Malcolm is still in Vulcan custody.”

“I've never seen him like that. It wasn't the Malcolm I know,” Hoshi said, her voice breaking.

Her words were barely above a whisper, but the grief in them was palpable. She believed she had lost the man she loved.

“It wasn't the Malcolm you know,” he said and gently rubbed the back of her hand. “I have yet to hear the details from Soval, but the Ambassador says that Malcolm was not acting on his own free will. If he's right, you'll get him back, the _right_ Malcolm.”

She looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, but he could also see a glimmer of hope. He stood slowly, as he didn't want to leave his two officers in the brig any longer than necessary.

“Thank you, captain.”

He smiled at her and then left.

=/\=

Assistant inspector, Sublieutenant Stel reported to the Administrator, still not knowing why his Excellency had summoned him directly instead of having Security Minister Tuvan act as his liaison as would have been the usual protocol.

“Stel, you are a member of clan _dvinsu ekon-ak_ , like myself.”

“Yes, Excellency.”

He observed the Administrator as closely as was allowed without running the risk of being accused of unseemly staring. The older male appeared unusually agitated.

“There are dangerous tendencies on Vulcan,” the Administrator explained. “A radical group of insurgents has gone into hiding in the Forge. We need to act before they can cause more disruption and discontent. This operation can only be conducted by a trustworthy clansman – you.”

“Yes, Excellency. If I may ask; is Subcommander T'Pol connected to that group? I have read a most peculiar report from Earth.”

“No, her mother is. We had hoped to repatriate the Subcommander by forceful means, to use her to find the group. But the humans killed seventeen V'Shar operatives to keep her out of our reach. We cannot afford another attempt.”

“Yes, Excellency,” Stel answered with a nod.

“Report to my office after the Council session tomorrow. You will receive further orders then.”

Stel nodded and left the chamber.

=/\=

Jon would have liked to ask them a lot of questions, but right now was not the time. Trip had inquired shortly about Malcolm and he had given him what little info he had himself. His own questions would have to wait as it was obvious that T'Pol was in bad shape. It felt really weird, knowing that this “bad shape” was down to a lack of sex, but then he didn't really want to know what it did to a person as private as T'Pol to be forced into such a biological emergency and live with the awareness that outside parties knew about it.

He put the engine in idle to let the two of them get off the shuttle as he wanted to go back down again.

“Trip, you two take the rest of the day off. I'm sure Anna won't mind being in command for a few more hours.”

His softly spoken order was acknowledged by a grateful nod from the chief engineer. T'Pol appeared to be past caring. She just scrambled out of the craft dragging Trip with her.

=/\=

This was anything but stimulating, but T'Pol was not in a condition to think about his comfort. Deprived of not only the sexual relief that she needed pretty much daily, but also of the solitude to meditate properly, her control was in tatters. Thankfully she had prepared him for that possibility many weeks ago.

 _If I am ever in a situation where my biological situation is exacerbated by compromised control over my emotions, I will most likely seek relief in a mostly uncouth manner. Do not engage in_ _futile chivalry – answer my actions in kind. Do not be afraid to_ _inflict_ _pain. It might be the only way to remind me of the fact that I'm dealing with another sentient being._

This explanation had been an abstract concept so far, but there was no doubt that he was on the receiving end of the roughest blowjob of his life. T'Pol's head was basically just bobbing up and down frantically and sometimes her teeth brushed against the sensitive flesh of his erect organ. The noises she made wouldn't be out of place on a farm.

Trip let himself fall back onto the bed and wrestled her into a sixty-nine position. While T'Pol greedily swallowed his tool again, he grabbed her buttocks roughly and kneaded them forcefully. Thankfully her biological situation made her incredibly sensitive in places, or maybe she was just naturally sensitive.

Twirling his tongue around her pleasure nub inside the folds of her pussy, he could work on having her cum hard, while adding the necessary rough element by manhandling her butt-cheeks and shoving two fingers into her rear. She growled in response and continued to administer the most unsatisfying blowjob ever.

=/\=

Jon was getting restless. He had been told that Ambassador Soval would be with him shortly, which T'Pol would probably have defined as 'an arbitrarily chosen time between thirty seconds and ten point three minutes' or something inane as that. But he had been sitting here for thirty minutes now and nothing had happened.

Just as he was about to stand up and pace the room, a side-entrance opened and Soval was led in, supported by two younger Vulcans. The captain gasped upon seeing the old man, who normally looked calm, collected and utterly controlled at all times.

Soval's face was ashen-pale, his eyes barely focused. The normally impeccably styled Vulcan mop-top was a gray-haired mess as if he had spent the last two hours with his fingers in an electric socket. Greenish bruises were visible on his face and neck.

Helped by the two Vulcans, Soval fell into the chair behind his desk with a soft groan. Jon watched the scene in utter shock. The cranky old ambassador had not exactly been a friend of his, but considering the short phase of thawing relations in the aftermath of his role in the Weytahn/Paan Mokar crisis, he had thought that maybe there would be a day when they could work together. Seeing the Ambassador in such a state was shocking.

“I must apologize for my appearance,” the Vulcan said, his voice weak with exhaustion, but he trailed off. “I...”

Seeing Soval nearly pass out, Jon fetched what looked like a carafe with water in it and poured some of the liquid into a glass. He sniffed it and it was odorless. Hoping that Soval was not keeping a carafe of odorless poison in his office he walked around the desk and offered the glass to the Vulcan, but the Ambassador's shaking hands were hardly able to hold it. Vulcan inhibition be hanged he put his arm behind Soval's neck and more or less fed him the water. The contents of the glass were emptied in large gulps. Jon refilled and repeated the procedure.

=/\=

Trip still lay on his back, hugging T'Pol close to his chest. With her having been deprived of the needed intimate contact, it had taken but a few minutes to lick and nibble her to two consecutive orgasms of which the second had been so explosive she had nearly passed out.

And it would be just as well as with the corner of one of her incisors she had left a very painful scratch on his most sensitive body part. A few drops of blood had trickled down and pooled at its base, but except for the excruciating pain there seemed to be no lasting damage.

When he saw an errant tear running down her cheek, he pulled her up and positioned her ear right over his heart.

“Concentrate on my heartbeat, darlin'. Try to meditate some,” he said softly.

She tried but in a matter of minutes she had passed out into a deep sleep.

=/\=

“Thank you captain,” the Ambassador said, his voice still weak.

“Did Malcolm do this to you?” Jon asked, afraid of what the answer would be as he took a seat across from the Vulcan.

“It was not Lieutenant Reed who did this. It was what was given to him. It was what killed seventeen Vulcans in cold blood.”

“So your theory was true? He's been influenced?” Jon asked.

“ _Thevar mugl'au,_ ” Soval muttered. “Dangerous Darkness has befallen thee… It is a barbaric concept from the savage past of our race.”

Jon refilled the glass and handed it to the still weakened Vulcan. At least the Ambassador had recovered enough to be able to empty it unaided.

“Your officer was violated in a most unspeakable way. To make it understandable to you… He was forcefully given what you would call a 'dark soul', a second personality.”

“They made him a shizophrenic?”

“In essence yes. This second personality, devoid of empathy and emotion would normally be triggered by a certain word or phrase, however, since humans are ruled by emotions this dark soul was threatened when Lieutenant Reed found his true soul mate in Ensign Sato. Surely you knew him as a person with a strong control over his emotions?”

Jon snorted. “That's an understatement, Ambassador. At times Malcolm Reed could out-Vulcan my science officer.”

“But nothing could control the passion he associated with his mate. When she was in peril, his emotions flamed up to a degree that it threatened the second _katra_ residing in his mind.”

“And it took over,” Jon half-asked, half-stated. “But how can he be healed of it? Can he be healed at all?”

“He already is healed, captain. As you can see it was not a comfortable procedure. For neither of us.”

The ambassador augmented his explanation by pointing at his bruises. It was still unnerving to see the normally so controlled and confident Vulcan slumped in a chair.

“The official explanation will be that your officer suffered a psychotic episode as a result of anaphylactic shock due to the exposure to a rare pollen in Malaysia. He will have to undergo psychiatric evaluation by Starfleet Medical and will most likely be banned from traveling to the region, but from what I saw in his mind, he will not be too distressed by that restriction.”

“I've communicated with that family of his once,” Jon snorted, remembering the time when they had tried to find out about Malcolm's favorite food. “He'll probably thank us for it.”

The Vulcan nodded weakly and indicated towards the carafe. Jon gave him another glass of water.

“Since you made up a cover story that, if I'm not mistaken, involves falsifying medical records. I take it your method of healing him was not exactly legal?” Jon asked.

“I cannot burden you with the details at this time, Captain as there are more pressing matters,” the Vulcan said, righting himself in the chair with an effort. “This V'Shar mission showed all the signs of desperation. It was a last gasp effort to remove T'Pol from human influence. Administrator V'Las will not stop until he has reached his objectives and I believe one of those objectives will be retaliation against humanity. There is only one human target on Vulcan.”

“The embassy!” Jon realized.

=/\=

The shrill sound of the coms device woke him from his slumber and Trip punched the button. “Tucker”

“Trip. Do you know where the Captain is?”

It was Anna and she sounded as if she was in full-on panic.

“Vulcan Embassy. He's havin' a meeting with Soval. What happened, Anna?”

“The United Earth Embassy on Vulcan has been bombed. We've been ordered to go there ASAP.”

That had him wide awake in darn hurry.

“Okay, Anna – send shuttle pod two to Starfleet Medical, we need Hoshi. I'll alert Jon. Recall everyone you can reach. We'll go out with a skeleton crew if needed. Countdown T minus sixty.”

=/\=

“Too late,” Jon said with a chagrined face flipping the communicator shut. “The United Earth Embassy has been bombed.”

Soval did not offer a reply.

“I take it you would prefer to come with us?” he said. If those last ninety minutes had told him anything, it was that Soval was not the man he had known in the past.

The Vulcan tried to stand up, but failed. Jon walked around the desk and put the Soval's arm around his neck, pulling him up. With the ambassador heavily leaning on him, he started towards the door.

“Your communicator,” Soval requested and John handed it over. With a few quick one-handed key-presses the Vulcan re-aligned it to Vulcan frequencies. “Doctor Lorat, bring Lieutenant Reed to the docking platform.”

“The patient has not yet regained consciousness, Ambassador,” came the calm reply.

“The biobed has wheels, has it not?” Soval shot back acerbically and handed Jon the communicator back.

“Not a very Vulcan reaction,” Jon said.

“My control may still be… compromised,” Soval groaned as they struggled towards the door.

=/\=

“How many have we got?” Jon asked, climbing out of the shuttle once they were docked to the ship.

“Fifty-two,” Trip replied. “Almost thirty green non-coms. We've got our work cut out for us.”

“Have Soval and Malcolm delivered to sickbay. How's Hoshi?”

“Arrived five minutes ago,” Trip said handing him a science department uniform. Jon looked at him in confusion.

“She went straight to the bridge.”

“In her underwear?” Jon asked.

“No, I gave you this uniform as a memento,” the engineer replied sarcastically and ran off towards engineering.

Normally he wouldn't have suffered such a snotty reply lightly, but there was a sizable engineering department at the UE embassy on Vulcan. Chances were that Trip had lost a lot of friends and he could only start to imagine under what pressure his friend was operating right now. Remembering what he'd been given the uniform for, the captain ran towards the turbo-lift to restore the modesty of his coms officer.

=/\=

Courtesy of Trip's department they were only two more days from Vulcan after thirty-six hours at maximum warp.

Since all current bridge officers had once been members of the C47 group, nobody was batting an eye when Hoshi guided a slightly disorientated science officer to her station. They all new what it meant. Knowing the dire situation they were in, Trip had shown up late last night, informing him in detail about T'Pol's biological situation and what the inevitable measures to resolve it did to her vision. Since this was the start of the morning shift Trip had most likely waited till the last moment to 'cater for her needs' in the hope it would last her through the day.

The captain had known his emotional friend long enough to know just how deep his love for the Vulcan ran. Applying something as sacred as making love to her as an 'emergency measure' was bound to hurt Trip badly.

“How long, T'Pol?” Jon asked in a whisper after walking over to the science console.

“Probably thirty minutes and my vision will be fully restored, Captain,” she answered in an equally hushed voice.

“Good. If you need… help, just request leave from the bridge. I'll grant it.”

His whispered reply was acknowledged with a nod.

=/\=

Soval was slowly pacing what the humans called the conference room waiting for the announced visitor. Their arrival in orbit around his home world had been every bit as predictable as he had thought.

The bombing of the Earth Embassy that had cost forty-two casualties, including ten Vulcans, was obviously a measure to retaliate against the humans for the failed V'Shar mission on Earth. In violation of everything that Vulcan values stood for the bombing had been blamed on a pacifist group that believed the true teachings of Surak had been corrupted. While he did not necessarily agree with the political opinions of that group, he was convinced they would never resort to cold-blooded murder to make their voice heard.

Of course the High Command had underestimated the resourcefulness of the humans and that their doctor was a member of a race with the most advanced knowledge of generic engineering in the whole quadrant. It had been a matter of hours until they could prove that false genetic evidence had been planted to implicate a young female named T'Pau.

The door opened and a young Vulcan male entered, carrying a wooden box.

“This is not the time to make your claims known, Koss. The betrothal with T'Pol has been rescinded by your parents three years ago.”

“I am aware of that, _Tela'at_ ,” the male answered. “But I still desire her and I would willingly accept disinheritance to claim her as mine.”

“Art thou prepared to fight me in the _kal-i-fee_?” Soval replied in ancient Golic.

“I shall do what is necessary,” the younger man replied in modern Vulcan. “But this is not why I came here. Lady T'Les asked me to deliver this family heirloom.”

Soval took the box and opened it. It contained an IDIC symbol, but none that he had seen before in the one-hundred forty years of his existence.

“This is no clan possession,” he said in an accusatory tone.

“I was only asked to deliver it,” the younger Vulcan insisted. “I shall meet you at the ancient fighting grounds if my desired mate is foolish enough to challenge my claim of possession.”

With that final threat the younger man was gone.

“How foolish has our youth become?” Soval lamented. “I may be advanced in age, but does an architect really believe he can be victorious against a former operative. Will you fight me with a manson's trowel, young man?”

He swept those thoughts aside. Conversing with oneself was illogical.

=/\=

“Soval, have you seen the reports on this place? It's a hell-hole! No technology works down there. You have to _walk_ in!”

“Have you seen the report that reminds you of the fact that I was _born_ on this world?” Soval replied in kind, satisfied about his successful attempt of engaging the human in a verbal fight. The fact that _Enterprise's_ chief engineer had stopped and looked at him in open surprise was testament to his victory.

“Good gravy, you _do_ have a sense of humor!”

“Of course, Commander, we just hide it better,” Soval replied. “Please take _all_ necessary care of T'Pol while Captain Archer and I are on the surface.”

The discoloring of the human's face made it obvious that he had intruded on a private subject.

“Before you ask me what business of mine it is,” the Vulcan continued. “T'Pol's deceased father was my brother.”

If the human was surprised he made an adept effort at hiding it, the Vulcan thought as they continued their walk towards the transporter alcove. He did however suspected that the groaning sound represented a certain discomfort of the human with the newly acquired knowledge. He fetched a data chip from his pocket and handed it to the desired mate of his niece.

“This contains the data on gaps in the planetary satellite surveillance system, it should help you find out when matter transports cannot be detected.”

“I guess we're not supposed to have this?” the younger man asked as they arrived near the platform on which the ship's captain was already waiting.

“Supposed to have what, Commander?” Soval asked, feigning ignorance. “All I see is a Starfleet data module.”

“Trip, you take command,” the captain said. Soval knew that his niece was nominally the higher ranking officer, but he suspected from the looks exchanged between the two men, that his niece's biological situation, aggravated by recent developments, had something to do with it.

“Right...” the younger human said and operated the controls.

=/\=

Trip walked onto the bridge.

“Hoshi, could we salvage anything from the embassy's computer core?”

“It was too badly damaged,” she replied, shaking her head. “But you might want to have a look at this.”

His glance followed her indication and a star chart appeared on the screen.

“It looks like the High Command is running short on encryption experts,” Hoshi said with a chuckle. “I've seen school computers that were harder to break in.”

“This looks like this Paan Mokar thing from a few months back,” Trip pointed out and he saw Travis nod. _Leave it to a boomer to remember every corner of the galaxy just by looking at a chart_.

“And by the look of it, the Vulcans are sending quite a few ships there,” Trip added.

“Not at all,” came the familiar British-flavored reply from the tactical console.

Trip looked over to see Malcolm stand at his usual place. His friend was still looking fairly pale, but otherwise bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Protocol be hanged, he walked over and gave his friend a short man-hug, patting him on the back.

“Those signatures are all as queer as a thirty-seven pound note,” the Brit continued. “They were planted, unless the Vulcans have escape pod sized vessels with a warp seven engine.”

“They haven't,” T'Pol chipped in from behind the science console.

“So what's the point then?” Trip asked to nobody in particular.

“Well, the Vulcans have a military outpost near Celes,” Malcolm pointed out, highlighting the region. “The Andorians have a counter-attack force near Regulus – here.”

“Looks pretty small for a counter-attack force?” Trip said doubtfully.

“That's because most of the Andorian ships have been ordered to Paan Mokar-slash-Weytahn to investigate the fake Vulcan signatures.”

Trip turned around, looking at Malcolm.

“The Vulcans are preparing to attack the Andorians.”

His statement was answered by a grim-looking nod from his friend.

Trip turned around and walked to the helm's console. He put his hand on the helmsman's shoulder.

“Travis, direct course to Regulus. Maximum warp.”

 


End file.
